


to undress

by epistretes



Series: Aquaphilia [2]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aquaphilia, BAMF Sif, Bath Sex, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Porn with a smidge of plot, Sparring, Taken From Behind, Teasing, Wordy Porn, firmly ignoring feelings, loki is a toe-rag, minor depictions of violence, only a smidge though, rising to the challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epistretes/pseuds/epistretes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their encounter haunts Sif and Loki challenging her in the arena opens an opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to undress

**Author's Note:**

> This is Part Two of [Aquaphilia](http://archiveofourown.org/series/86578).

Loki was invading her thoughts. All during that feast two months ago, she had felt him as if he was right there. She had known his eyes were fixed on her and yet when she stole a glance, he was paying no attention to her at all.

She could _smell_ him even through the haze of mead, wine and meat. He smelled to her like freshly fallen rain and a hint of ozone with the added scent of her own herbal hair wash and yet whenever she caught a whiff, he was nowhere near to her.

She downed the rest of her tankard and set it down, ignoring the cries of Thor and Volstagg for her to have another and she picked up a cube of cheese and a small tart fruit and popped them in to her mouth. She had tried to focus on it and instead memories of their afternoon together danced through her mind as easily as Loki danced with that pretty girl mere feet from her.

Claiming a soreness, she departed soon after the midnight bells had tolled. Thor and Fandral especially had bid her to stay but she refused, saying she would see them on the morrow. There had been no lie to see through for them because she was a little sore but not in the way that they would assume and she saw no need to correct their assumptions. As she left the room, she could feel Loki’s eyes on her, almost feel his fingers ghosting across her skin and then she was gone, the Einherjar closing the door behind her.

The days had gone by and as the aching need between her legs lessened, the feel of Loki all around her lessened with it. She avoided that bathing room with a single-minded determination and solely used the one in her own chambers, even though when she stepped in to the warm water, her body thrummed in anticipation. She had been guilty of giving in to the feelings the water imparted and spreading her legs for her own fingers, replaying that tryst in her mind as she brought herself to shuddering completion...but it was never enough, not near enough.

After two weeks of this, she had sworn off giving in to her bodily desires and become so fearsome in the ring even Thor thought twice before taking her on. 

The day that marked two months exactly since their illicit and secret time in the bathing rooms, a challenger stepped forward and she cursed his name under her breath. She had not been this close to him since that day and her very skin prickled with anticipation as he spoke. Perhaps she had not banished the feel of him from her body as much as she had liked to think.

“If no man cares to take on the Lady Sif, then I will offer myself,” she wanted to punch him right in his stupid, smirking face for that. She heard the double entendre even if none other present did.

“I wanted a challenger,” she shot back and he smirked and twirled his little silver knives around his fingers in a display of skill even as the onlookers tittered. He might not be able to be called the cream of the crop in the arena, but Loki was not utterly devoid of martial skill. He had on occasion even helped them in a pinch with his ruthless tactics and magically infused weapons.

“The Lady does not wish to play,” he replied and she was keenly aware of the stares and muffled guffaws from all around her.

“No, I do not, but I will fight you. Any tricks, Liesmith and I’ll cut out your silver tongue,” she shot back, flicking her wrist and turning her dwarven-made weapon to the double-edged form.

“A wager worth the price,” he told her, stepping in menacingly. “What do I get if I win?”

“You will not win so it is not worth wagering,” she retorted.

“Humour me.”

“If you win, you may claim a kiss,” she smirked at the crowd’s renewed titters and played it up for them. Let them think there were no layers to this, no hidden sparring between the two; that there would be no sensuality to their movements. 

“Brother, be not so rash. It would be a shame for you to lose your tongue, such stories we shall miss around the camp fire!” Thor called from the side where he had retreated with the Warriors Three when Loki had entered the ring.

“I only take his tongue if he uses his tricks,” Sif reminded with a cheeky ring to her voice “I need not wager anything else.”

“Are you ready, my lady?” Loki asked, dragging the attention back to himself and away from Thor so she fixed her eyes on him. They shared a look, she remembered the last time she had looked directly in to his eyes so intently, when they had just come together in that bath with him nestled so perfectly inside of her. His lips tipped up in a small smirk and she knew that he was thinking the same. In that instant, she whipped her glaive around and he only got his silver knives up in time to deflect her strike just in time. A split second later and she would have given him quite the haircut.

The game was on.

She spun left, so he spun the other way and their weapons clashed together. He tried to flick a knife at her and she knocked it out of the air before it got anything near to close. She whipped her glaive around and he just ducked the first blade in time before having to athletically leap the second as she completed her circle and the metal sliced through the air beneath his feet.

He stepped in closer and though she could smell that scent that was uniquely _him_ , she was not distracted and she put her weapon up in time to deflect the feint attack follow up that she knew he would deploy to try to unseat her. She knew his style probably better than he knew it himself, having watched the Liesmith fight and train. He did not train as she did, he did not understand the level of nuance that she did. He did exactly as she expected and threw a false attack at her exposed neck only to reverse the thrust at the last second and launch a back attack - but she was ready for him, she had exposed her neck on purpose. Their moves were a dance, though not a deadly one as the safety enchantments here were stronger even than Loki. Odin had wrought them in to the very bedrock of Asgard. Still, their moves complimented the other and were far more balletic in nature than most grunts offered her here in the arena. Her arena. Not for long though, she did not want to inflate his ego any further. 

Her arm wrapped under his own and across his chest and she pushed hard, using his own momentum in his reverse attack to launch him bodily to the ground. She leapt atop him and straddled him, the point of her glaive to his throat.

She smirked widely even though she could feel the heat between them as they panted to get their breath back. It had been far from her hardest bout ever, yet it had been fast, athletic and relentless.

“Do you yield?” she asked, fully aware of the full crowd of people watching and resisting the urge to reach down and kiss him senseless now that he was so near and the blood in her veins pumped so violently at the combination of the fight and her body’s memory of when she last had her legs wrapped around his waist.

“I yield to the shieldmaiden,” he replied and she pulled herself off of him and offered a hand to help him up, which he took.

“No tricks. I need not take your tongue,” she told him, eyebrows raised.

“Loki! Do not despair, many a man has fallen to Lady Sif’s fearsome technique!” Fandral called out as he and Thor entered the ring. Sif noticed that many of the onlookers were dispersing now that the fun was over for them.

“I am sure of it,” he replied smoothly and she wanted to punch him again even though the others had no cause to suspect any layers to such a comment even from him.

“Ah Sif, Brother,” Thor greeted as he got closer “such a fight I have not witnessed in a while. The two of you should spar more often if we could get you to join us more.”

“I fear I have not always got the time to visit the training arena, but if the Lady should want me to spar with, I am sure I could find the time.” Sif knew what he was talking about and she could not help but want it too. How was it so easy to want to punch his irritating smirking face as much as she wanted to pull him close? No one had ever had such a pull over her and yet she could not resist. She was also starting to worry that the teasing and pull between them might get noticed. 

"Good bout today, Loki," she complimented "I'm done for the day, I think, see you for dinner?" She added to Thor.

“Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun and I are all going to the tavern later. Will you join us?” he asked her, also looking at Loki to include him as well.

“Perhaps,” she replied ambiguously. She usually enjoyed going to the tavern with them all but she was not sure that she was quite in the mood today. Those men who had been too scared to fight her would be there as well and they would be different when they were deep in their cups.

“Another time, there was a tome I wanted to read at the library,” Loki responded dismissively.

“Loki, brother, you must indulge me some time. You have not joined us at the tavern in a month at least,” Thor chided genially.

“I shall again this week, I promise,” Loki smiled a smile that was all teeth and it made him look predatory.

“Sif,” Thor nodded to her “Brother,” he nodded to Loki and then he walked away, joining the others and heading out of sight. Sif headed for the armoury and immediately busied herself with cleaning her double-bladed glaive of the dust that always tried to work its way in to the weapon out on the field or in the arena. 

As she opened the jar of her favoured sword polish and began caressing the blade with it, she sensed a presence behind her. She snapped her fist up and back over her shoulder, intending to strike the interloper with a backhanded fist but it was caught and her wrist held around her gauntlet, the cloth still clutched tight in her hand.

“Now now, Lady Sif” Loki practically purred in her ear and his other hand snaked around her and smoothed down her armoured skirts. “It would not do to strike a prince of the realm.”

“If he is a sneaky little toe-rag, I am sure it is pardonable,” she replied and then tipped her head back as those damnable long, cool fingers slipped further down and lifted her skirt. They danced feather-light over her leggings and underneath the hidden waistband. His lips and teeth found the pressure point on her neck and as he sucked on her pulse, her fingers went nerveless and she dropped the cloth of polish to the floor.

“What happened in that bath chamber should stay in that bath chamber,” she told him, her words breathy and yet she did not ask him to stop altogether. The words would not form and she as not even sure she wanted them to.

“Should it?” he replied as his fingertips spread her folds and tickled gently across her clit and she felt it swelling with desire.

“We cannot. Not in here, someone might see” she warned.

“I could make a terrible sword polishing pun here but I believe that sort of thing is more Fandral’s territory,” he replied.

“If you do, I would have to insist you revoke your title of Silvertongue,” she chuckled, unable to stop herself bucking against his delightful and precise fingers. His free hand waved across her weapons and the abandoned cloth and polish jar, settling them all back in their rightful places.

“I have no love for the title, but I would be happy to earn it anew,” he whispered seductively in her ear before he licked the shell of it and then nipped hard on the lobe.

“Did you see the Lady Sif straddling Prince Loki today?” Came a voice from around the corner and Sif stiffened in alarm and fright even as Loki’s fingers quickened their pace.

“She did knock him pretty hard down in to the dirt,” came a reply and Sif squirmed against Loki, too frightened of being caught in the armoury with Loki’s fingers buried in her core to insist he desist so that they could move.

“What I wouldn’t give to have her straddling _me_ like that, with that fine tight arse,” the first voice replied and just as she was about to smash Loki in the face with her fists now that the feeling swept back in to them, the world spun in a dizzying whirl of colour and as her feet met the ground again, she let out a sigh of relief that they had fled the armoury through Loki’s magic.

“Lock that door,” she demanded and his free hand flicked out and did as she bade. She near sagged against him both in relief and because she was so, _so_ close. All he needed to give was a few more glances across her swollen nub and she would be there. Then the total arse stopped and withdrew his hand.

She turned, anger and frustration written all over her features when he smirked at her and dropped elegantly to his knees on the floor, taking her leggings and knickers with him. 

“Not with my armour on,” she told him, through the fog left in place of her wits.

“I want all of you,” he told her “Sif _and_ Lady Sif.” She looked down at him, the war within her evident on her face.

“You cannot have her,” she replied, a little more harshly than she intended.

“Then I shall content myself with just Sif,” he responded and her clothes and his were vanished away, reappearing by the door all neatly folded. She could hear the discontent in his voice but it did not seem to dampen the desire crackling between them.

This was need, want, lust and release. It could be nothing else. Not for the Prince and the Shieldmaiden.

His tongue flicked out and caressed along the slit between her thighs and then his nose and lips followed suit, burying himself there. Sif gripped the massage table behind her with force as she allowed Loki to earn back his moniker. She had been so very close already before he stopped with his fingers and her body had not yet stubbornly gone back to Square One, that with his undeniable skill set here it was not long before she got to where she wanted. Loki lifted one of her legs and hooked it over his shoulder, allowing him to push his tongue further in to her core and he suckled on her lips before returning to that little bundle of nerves and as Sif could not hold off any more, she came with a shout and she felt him lapping it all up and tasting her. If his accompanying groan was anything to go by, he enjoyed it as much as she did.

Sinking back on to the cushioned table, Sif focused on catching her breath and she watched with heavily lidded eyes as he rose from between her legs, his chin shiny before he swept his arm across to clean himself. The leg she had had over his shoulder was resettled over his hip and she saw him standing proud.

Pressing his hips to her, she moaned as she watched him sweep his erection through her still slick folds, coating his shaft in her juices and she could see the head bobbing up, straining and ready. His hands lifted and one wrapped around the base of his shaft as he continued to tease at her folds without penetrating her. The other hand rested palm down and fingers splayed on her lower abdomen and she sighed in satisfaction.

As her wits began to pierce the fog again somewhat, the desperate need that had been building within her for those past infuriating two months finally dampened, she realised that he was about to enter her.

“Not like this, not face to face,” she protested and she watched as he immediately closed off his expression. In a flash he went from aroused, wanton and wanting to blank.

“Turn over,” he commanded and she did, hoping she had not shattered him too badly and ruined what they had between them. Before her breasts even made contact with the cushioned surface of the table, she felt him penetrate her in one swift and sure movement. She felt him settle in her and then he stopped and her eyebrows came together, confused.

“You are ashamed of me, of giving yourself to me,” he said, voice flat.

“No, I am not,” she told him earnestly as he placed his hand that had just been on her front between her shoulder blades and prevented her from looking at him. He withdrew agonisingly slowly and she could feel nothing in her body except the very tip of his foreskin.

“Then why the secrecy, why the refusal to look me in the eye?” he asked of her.

“This cannot be known, ahh!” He had slammed back in to her and this time he did not still, he started to thrust slowly but surely and with intent. “All that I have worked for will be for naught. Everyone will go from saying I am allowed to win to sooth my fragile womanly ego to saying I am allowed to win because I am the prince’s pet woman.”

“Then ignore the fools,” Loki replied, lowering his lips to her back and nipping at her shoulders as he continued to slide within her body and she used the leg wrapped around his hip to anchor herself with her heel in his back.

“This is everything I have worked for, trained for, bled for…” she reminded him. “Anyway, you cannot tell me that you do not love this.”

“Oh?”

“The Trickster prince, pulling off a great trick. The Silvertongue Liesmith hoodwinking all around him,” she hissed in pleasure as he twitched within her at her words “the Prince of Secrets keeping a big secret from the realm right under their noses.”

She used the foot planted firmly on the floor as her base as she pushed up on her hands, altering the angle and exposing her breasts to the air even as he continued to pump up in to her slick heat.

“Do go on,” he urged her, sweeping the loose part of her hair over her shoulder and between their sweaty bodies before yanking hard on the braid that held the wisps back during her training bouts. She moaned as the pain was soothed by his licking a long trail up her exposed neck and she felt her walls fluttering around his thick shaft.

“I am not the master of words here,” she reminded him as she trembled in his arms, only her strength training and innate stamina kept her upright as her arms took the brunt of her weight and his powerful and determined thrusts.

“No, that is me and who am I?” he asked of her, whispering harshly in her ear. “Say my name.”

“Loki,” she cried out as she hit her peak, arms shaking as they fought to keep her in that position even as her body flooded a released out of her and on to him. At the sound of his name coming from her lips like that, she felt him burst through the barrier as well and they pulsed together. She could hear and feel their mingled offerings seeping out of her even as he continued to grind in to her and give more. She heard it hit the floor in gobbets as he dropped his forehead to her shoulder and ground in to her with one last gasp as he throbbed within her and spurted one more time. They collapsed forward on to the cushions and she let his flesh mold to her own as they fought to gather their breath.

That had almost felt like more of a fight than their spar on the training floor and she was unsure which had aroused her more. She knew she would not have allowed his fingers in her knickers in the armoury at all otherwise, but he had her so worked up with just the memory of him let alone the touch of him.

They lay there in a sweaty, joined heap for long minutes until they could trust themselves to stand again. Loki unseated himself from her and offered her a hand to get to her feet.

“We should get you clean before you meet the others at the tavern,” he told her simply and she did not let go of his hand as they walked to the warm bath and slipped in to the comforting, cleaning water.

“You are sure you will not join us? You will be just as welcome to my company as they will,” she told him, hoping that he would accept the gesture after denying him just now.

“I fear I should not, if we are to keep this a secret then I do not trust myself to do so tonight if I am in my cups,” he admitted as he began to let his body soak.

“I understand,” she really did and she gave him a smile. How odd to want someone so much and yet not want them to make love to you, only to rut, to fuck. That first time, face to face had been too intimate. She might have been straddling him in a bath but it had been one of, if not _the_ single most erotic and intimate encounter of her life. It had been too much and she was not ready for it. She could not bear to look deeply in to his eyes, his soul as they joined and completed again for who knew what path that might lead to? One that she was certain that she was not ready for, or ready to even accept as a possibility for herself just yet. She was war, she was death, she was the shield and sword. She could not be a gentle, tender lover as well. Not right now. It seemed that Loki finally understood, even if he had not half an hour prior if his look to her now was anything to judge by.

“I meant what I said to you and Thor,” he told her as he rubbed the washcloth gently over her skin. “If Sif requires me, I will be there. If Lady Sif requires it, I will be there as well. I am content with half of you if that is what you wish.”

“It is.”

“As you wish.” He dropped the cloth in to the water and pulled her to him, settling her on his lap and she realised that he was hard once again, refreshed from their rest and the water.

“I must go soon,” she told him as they would be expecting her at the tavern in time for dinner as it sounded like a night was to be made of it. His hips shifted and he ignored the time, or lack of it, as he slipped inside of her once again, the curve of her backside nestling perfectly against his lower torso.

“You must always go too soon for my liking,” he kissed her shoulder as they rolled their hips together languidly and almost lazily. Their earlier activities had tired her out somewhat but this felt nice and she was in no hurry to reach her completion despite the time.

His hands swept up to her breasts and he teased at her erect and sensitive nipples and Sif wondered at just how water surrounding her even as she surrounded his flesh was so arousing.

“You are going to make an aquaphiliac of me yet,” he breathed hard as he kneaded her breasts and flicked a dexterous finger across her nipples alternately. Sif chuckled and then moaned as the vibrations of it circled through her to him and back again.

“Then let this bath chamber be our little sanctum,” she suggested “whenever we are in need of one another, this is where we shall meet.”

“I concur,” he agreed and she tilted her head back to kiss him even though her neck did not much like the angle. Their lips met and those tingles swept through her body again and she briefly wondered if maybe her precaution of not facing him, of not looking in to his captivating green eyes was rendered a moot point. She heard him draw his breath in and he gripped her breasts a little harder and her heart beat a little faster as they came together, pouring their passion in to the kiss.

Floating back down from their shared high, Sif broke the kiss and rested against his chest as he continued to twitch within her with the aftershocks.

“I must go,” she near-whined after the tingles had finally stilled.

“Then go,” he kissed the back of her neck and rested his hands on her thighs “I will return here when you wish it of me.”

Sighing with satisfaction, satiation and the simple pleasure of him kissing her like that there, she forced herself to stand. Wordlessly, she quickly washed any trace of him from her and exited the bath. Dressing quickly as was her wont, she walked to the door as he released the lock.

She turned to look at him, still in the bath and watching her every move hungrily, she smiled.

“Tomorrow. After dinner.” The door opened and then closed behind her as she left him in the water.

_____________________

“Sif!” Thor called out and waved his tankard at her, spilling a little on to the scrubbed wooden table in front of him. “There you are, I was beginning to think we would not have the pleasure of your company this eve.”

“I lost track of time,” she snagged a passing serving girl as she sat, sweeping her gown underneath her demurely “cold cuts, fruit and a tankard of mead for all seated here please.”

The girl walked off with the order and Volstagg, Hogun, Fandral and Thor all grinned at her.

“As an apology for my lateness.”

“You fought well today,” Volstagg beamed as Fandral turned his attention back to the busty brunette on his lap. “You should have seen the look on Loki’s face when you turned that attack round on him.”

“My brother really ought to visit the arena more often, he has some skill, he just does not practice enough.”

“Oh I believe Loki’s skills are more than meets the eye,” Sif replied, managing to school her features in a way Loki himself would be proud of and she managed to not smile in any obvious way. “I have not come across a partner like him in some time.”

“Then I hope he does continue to grace us with his presence more often for you, Sif.”

“I think after today, he shall.”

“Excellent. I like the little whippersnapper,” Volstagg boomed and smashed his empty tankard on the floor “ANOTHER!”

Sif accepted the tankard brought to her and smiled in to the rim as she sipped at her mead. Another, indeed.


End file.
